


Demons Run

by MadelynRose



Series: Demons Run [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock - Fandom, Supernatural, Superwholock - Fandom
Genre: AU, Multi, Superwholock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-07
Updated: 2013-11-08
Packaged: 2017-12-25 21:21:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/957729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadelynRose/pseuds/MadelynRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley has a plan, but in order to get what he wants he must entrust his plan in the (forced) hands of someone. Someone with more power than him. A Time Lord. His plan to throw the Earth into the Apocalypses will force unlikely men together, forcing those around each other discover what truly matters before it's too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Intros

Iowa, January 17th, 2012

The motel was like every other one the Winchesters have seen, dark, stained, and covered with the most ridiculous wallpapers. After a while of the constant traveling they all seemed to merge together into one big crappy room, but they were used to it. As long as they were together, alive, and kicking ass nothing else mattered. That's what they told themselves, anyway. After taking a small case in Iowa and exercising a pack of demons the brothers returned to their motel room for the night. This one almost got them. Dean almost died, again. They seem to always be almost dying, never have they actually ended up dead, and stayed dead. This was normal, cuts, burns, possession and broken bones, they have known this their entire life. They couldn’t complain, they were saving peoples lives. Thats what mattered.   
Sleep, it was hard to come by these days. Dean slid off his leather jacket and boots and slid into the deep orange sheets that scratched and caught at his scars with a deep sigh. He didn’t mind how hard the mattress was or the fact he was still covered in blood, all he wanted was to sleep. Maybe this time he won’t have that nightmare again. Sam on the other hand, took the time to strip off his clothing and take a much needed shower to wash off all of the blood, demon blood. Now matter how long ago or how much it pained him, Sam still thought of it. The worst times of his life, when he was a monster. Why am I thinking of this? It was so long ago, so... so... Sam frowned and let out a sigh as he began to shower. Just another day on the job.

 

TARDIS

“Run, run, run, run, run!” the Doctor ran from behind the pillar to the big blue box that parked itself, quite conveniently, right in the middle of a Jadoon battle. His overcoat trailed behind him, flapping against his long legs as he sprinted to the doors. Rose, his companion, ran beside him, panting and bleeding from a deep wound on her shoulder. A Jadoon gun had been fired at her and if it weren’t for the Doctor pushing her out of the way it would have got her right in the heart. I almost lost her, the Doctor thought, as tears stung his eyes. Just GO, stop thinking and run. The blue doors of the TARDIS were already open by the time they both reached them. He knew he shouldn’t have left in the middle of a battle like this, a battle he caused, but Rose was hurt. Rose was more important than anything. “How are you? How much are you bleeding? I’m so sorry, so so sorry. Rose, are you okay? How could I have been so stupid! You-”   
“Doctor!” Rose gasped, “Please, this hurts get me to the infirmary, now,” her lips pouted and she crossed her arms only to grimace at the pain.   
Silently, still wallowing in his own guilt, her led her into the infirmary, which the TARDIS helpfully made to be the first door in the hall. Rose knew the drill, this happens a lot to the both of them considering how much trouble they get themselves into. Traveling through time and space, saving planets, stopping evil plans, a few cuts and breaks is nothing. In record time the Doctor had her patched up and a cup of tea in her hand. “I almost lost you, Rose,”   
“You ain't getting rid of me that easily, Doctor,” she smiled playfully up at him as she shook her hands through his hair. “Where to now?” In that moment the Doctor saw again just how special Rose was, fierce, strong and never gave up. That's why you- he stopped his thoughts.   
“Where ever you would like,” he sang. 

 

London, January 20th 2012

“Bored,” Sherlock paced back and forth in his flat he shared with John, is partner? Colleague? Friend? Oh, whatever he was. “Bored, bored, bored, bored, BORED!” he turned to John, who was sitting on his chair staring at his cup of tea. “Has there, or has there not, been absolutely no cases for the last week? I’m going to, going to,” dramatically he flung himself into his chair across from John and pulled out the gun from his pocket. John’s eyes went wide.  
“Sherlock, what are you going to do with that?” he set his cup down. Quickly Sherlock pulled the trigger and set three shots into the ceiling above them. “Sherlock you can’t just go about shooting around the flat whenever you don’t have a case,”  
“Oh? I can’t?” he again shot a bullet into the plaster above him sending dust into the black tuff of his hair. “Don’t question me, John,” he smiled. So did John. No matter how ridiculous or mad Sherlock maybe, he could always make John smile.   
The phone rang. John sat waiting for Sherlock to get it, the phone was never for John, always Sherlock. But he didn’t get up, he sat still not even paying any attention to it. With a sigh John retrieved it.   
“Hello?” John muttered.  
“Sherlock?” the voice was unfamiliar, american, and shaking with fear.   
“Hold on,” John waved Sherlock over. He sprang up with a grin and jerked the phone from his hands.   
“What is it?” he questioned, his voice filled with annoyance, as usual.   
“Y-You need to help them, help all of us. I saw it, you were there, so was that a-alien, thing, whatever he was. You have to help the Winchesters, without you they’re going to win,” the man was trembling in his voice, fear oozed from his words. Despite that what he was actually saying made no sense, Sherlock was interested.  
“Who will win?” he kept his voice calm.  
“The demons, without you we’re all going to die,” Sherlock tried to smother his laughter. Demons? Ha! No such thing, even a fool would know this.   
“Who are you?”   
“Chuck, Chuck Shurley,” he whispered.


	2. London Calling

Iowa, January 18th, 2012

It was still early, the sky was a deep pink in color and the clouds still black and gloomy. Dean was up, he couldn’t sleep. He sat out front of the motel room, gun tucked behind his back, and beer in his hand. He did this a lot at night, Sam didn’t know. He just sat there and though, thought about everything that has happened. It helped him, a little. What helped him the most was praying. Not to God, no never to him, he never answered, but to Castiel. He always answered.   
“Hello, Dean,” the angel’s voice was deep, raspy, but soothing to Dean. Castiel stood next to him, looking out into the vast sky full of clouds and rays of the morning sun peeking over the treetops.   
“Cas,” Dean smiled up at him. They caught each others eyes for a while and held the gaze. Neither of them would admit it but they were each others best friends. They kept each other safe and no matter how much crap they have both been through together they would still risk their lives for the other. They were almost more than friends, brothers even.  
“There’s been some talk, about Chuck Shurley,”. Dean look surprised.   
“Chuck? Profit Chuck? I haven’t heard about him since you exploded,” Dean shivered, he was convinced he had lost him that day. It pained him to even think of that.   
“Yes well, there has been a vision, a new prophecy,” Cas looked distant, sad even.   
“From what I’ve heard it’s about you and Sam, in London. That’s all I know, but it will happen, soon,”   
“Thats all you know? Damn it Cas, Chuck could write books about what happened to us and all you know is we’re in London? What aren’t you telling me Cas?” Dean stood, looking eye to eye with the angel.   
“Crowley, he has something planned. Nothing like before. Bigger. This isn’t good Dean,”   
“We’ll be fine Cas, we always are,” 

TARDIS

The TARDIS had park itself in the sky right above a northern lights show. The air was still and cold against the time travelers skin. Rose sat, feet dangling over the side of the open doors clinging to the Doctors side. Together they sat, a blanket wrapped around the two of them in silence. They didn’t do this often. Their normal day was filled with running and aliens, but today was for them, not the rest of the universe. The lights below them shone in vivid purples and greens, shimmering and flowing into royal blues and light pinks. Rose couldn’t take her eyes off it. Almost two years running with the Doctor and she still could not comprehend the beauty of the universe. Neither could the Doctor. He gazed down at his human, completely astounded by her own beauty. She was the most beautiful thing in the universe to him.  
“Pretty ain't it, Doctor?” Rose huddled in closer to his body, wrapping her arms around his body. His hearts beat faster than before, she could hear it. This moment is perfect, the Doctor thought. Nothing else mattered right then, just the soft touches of their bodies and the cool breeze on their faces.  
“Rose,” he whispered as he slipped his arm around her waist.   
“Yah?” she looked up slowly. His voice was soft, loving. The way you would talk to your soul mate. Rose could only hope. The Doctor never could have feelings like that toward me, she told herself. Those words didn’t help ease the yearning for him as much as she would have liked.   
He rested his hand on her flushed cheek, feeling the heat conjure beneath the skin.   
“You’re,” he drew in a breath unsure of what to say. “You’re fantastic,” he whispered before he pressed his lips to her forehead. Her heart sank a bit. Yes, fantastic, always fantastic never more. He hated himself for saying that, he has faced Dalek and Cybermen. Saved planets and defeated races, but he could never admit what he was feeling for Rose.  
The night went on, they sat in comfortable silence watching the flowing colors in the sky. The TARDIS had kicked on some soft music after they had stopped talking. The Doctor knew what was going on. The TARDIS was trying to set a mood for him. Even she knew the Doctor should tell Rose. He hummed the tune softly into Roses hair, twirling his fingers around in circle on her skin. Despite the cold she was burning hot, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson. Tell her, just say it before you lose her. He took a deep breath, looking out into the stars above them. Now is the time, it’s perfect.   
“Rose?” He whispered, his voice cracking due to his nerves. He cleared his throat.  
“Yah?” She looked up quickly, her eyes wide and sparkling.   
“I...I,” he thought for a second. “Rose, I” bloody hell, he thought. Slowly his hands moved up around her warm cheeks turning her lips closer to his. His heart beat faster, his eyes watered and stomach felt cold with fear of rejection. Rose could barely breath, her heart stopped and mind clouded with pictures of the Doctor. This is happening, actually happening, she screamed in her head. Her fingers laced between his and she began to shut her eyes leaning in closer. He could feel her sweet breath on his lips, just moments away from his. You love her, he repeated in his mind. He pulled her in more ready for their lips to meet-  
“Hello, love birds,” The time travers gasped, opening their eyes seeing only their lips to be almost together. “No don’t let me stop you, I won’t peek,” the voice mocked. The Doctor stood quickly pulling Rose up and shielding her behind him. A man stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed and eyebrows cocked up with a grin. He wore an all black suit that looked eerie and powerful against his stark white skin.   
“Who are you?” the Doctor barked, stepping closer to the man.   
“You don’t know me? Over 900 hundred years old and you don’t know me,” he snapped his fingers and the TARDIS doors shut. The Doctor pulled out his sonic ready to scan him only for it to fly from his hands across the room. “I’m more powerful than you,” he taunted, taking causal steps closer, hands held behind his back. Again he snapped his fingers and he disappeared. “Now, you’re going to listen to me,” the Doctor spun on his heels and behind him were Rose stood was the man, hand around Rose’s mouth, pinning her against him.   
“Let go of her,” he growled. “Who are you,” he asked again, this time louder and filled with anger.   
“Crowley, King of Hell,”


	3. The Prophet

London, January 20th, 2012

“Now, Chuck, this is a professional business and I don’t want-” he rolled his eyes, looking over at John who was putting up the kettle for yet another cup of tea.  
“I’m not kidding, Sherlock please. Without you,” Chuck took a deep, shaky breath. “Without you hell is going to take over, Crowley will have his way. Humans enslaved, cities burned, everything, everything ruined. You need to help them, help the Winchesters, help the Doctor, please,” his voice was shaking and breathless, terrified. The type of terror you couldn’t fake. Something inside him said to help, nothing factual to go off of or truth that lead him to think this way, just his gut. This was new for Sherlock. He always went off of evidence, facts. This was, a first.   
“What can I do?” he whispered into the phone as if someone was around listening.   
“I’m in London, I was brought here to talk to you, to warn you,”   
“By who?” Sherlock interrupted.   
“The angels,” he let out a sigh, “I am a profit of the Lord. I know, I know that sound stupid but just trust me on this,”  
“Prove it,” he snapped.   
“Your friend John, he’s watching the kettle boil, he’s thinking about you. Wondering if you’re thinking of him. You? You’re sitting on a kitchen chair with a wobbly leg, staring at a scratch in the table you put into the wood while cutting up the body parts you got yesterday from the morgue. Now you’re thinking I could be looking in through the window but even if I were how could I know what you were thinking?” Sherlock looked up from the cut in the table, John was staring at the kettle intently, cheeks flushed a light pink and casting quick glances over at him. He stood quickly, the chair wobbling beneath him.   
“You have my attention, Chuck. Come over now,” Quickly before Chuck could respond he set the phone back onto the receiver. “John, we have a case, and an interesting one!” 

Sherlock paced the floors of the flat again as he did this morning only this time he had no intentions in shooting any plaster. It seemed like ages since the call. John sat in his chair snuggled up against the arm sipping from his tea cup. He seemed so peaceful, soft, warm. There was nothing more Sherlock wanted to do than--. The rap on the door was short, timid and soft but to Sherlock it was bells chiming down from the heavens as loud as any war.  
“Come in!” He shouted. The knob jiggled, stopped, then twisted to the left in a fast turn, stopped again, jiggled then slowly turned back to the right. John looked up from his comfort to laugh at the door struggles of this so called profit of the lord. Sherlock let out a deep sigh, “Idiots, Idiots everywhere,” he muttered. He clapped his jaw shut firmly making the muscles in his neck firm within the collars of his black shirt. John couldn’t stop staring. Behind the door a small, meek man stood. Beard short and ruff speckled over his dull ashen skin. The clothes he wore were ill fit and those of a teenager who was incapable of working a washing machine. Doesn’t look like a profit. John snorted in his mind, as did Sherlock. “Chuck,” he nodded his head as he lead himself back over to his chair. The profit stood shy within the door frame unsure of what to do.   
“Why don’t you come, sit down,” John stood gesturing over to the third chair placed in the room.   
“Uh, thanks, sure,” Chuck shuffled over to the chair and sat down.   
“Now, tell us everything,”

 

Airport, January 19th 2012

“Dean, this is crazy. Since when do we take cases outside of the country?” Dean parked the impala and shut off the engine.   
“Since now. Now, shut your pie hole and lets go,” Dean sat there a minute and caressed the steering wheel, “Don’t worry baby, I’ll be home soon,” he muttered to the car. Together, they got out of the car and began walking over to the airport. “I got a lead from Cas,” He sighed. “He said there was something in london that needed to be taken care of and if Cas thinks it’s important than it is,” Sam let out a deep breath, Of course, Dean is running to whatever Cas wants him to do.   
“Do you know anything about it? You can’t just go off Cas said so,” Sam stopped in his tracks and turned to Dean.   
“Crowley. He has something planned. I don’t know what, but if this gives us the chance to gank that son of a bitch I’m all ears to what Cas has to say. Lets go,”


	4. Possession

TARDIS

At this point nothing in the universe, not the past, present or future of any parallel universe in all existence, could stop the Doctor from ripping Crowley limb from limb. Everything but exactly what Crowley did. The Doctor watched as the trail of billowing black smoke projected from the demons mouth into the air and into the screaming mouth of his Rose. His entire being stopped, everything that ever mattered didn’t, anything that he could do to save Rose, his pink and yellow human, was gone. Rose’s body shuttered forward, throwing her down to her knees. On instinct, he rushed to her side, pulling her up off the ground. She leaned into his body looking up at him with those eyes, those black nothingness of eyes.   
“You really do care for her, don’t you alien boy?” Her smile was twisted, tears welded in the Doctors eyes. He let this happen. Rose was in there, screaming, begging to go out and he couldn't do anything. Up until this point he only thought of demons to be a myth, therefore never taking interest in exorcisms.   
“Leave her, get out of her, so help me I will kill you,” he spat through his teeth. Words of pure and utter fury and anger.   
“You can’t hurt me without damaging this perfect little body you so much adore,” Crowley slid her hands down her body, cupping her breasts and down to her hips. She looked up at him with those black eyes, licking Roses lips. He gripped Roses hands.  
“Don’t you dare touch her,” somehow he could rose there in those eyes, a strong glimpse of her strength. Like she was fighting her way out. He looked deeply into those eyes, straining to see his Rose inside. “I will get you back, I’ll make everything better, I promise,”   
“Oh, so sweet. Your love will bring her back for sure!” She laughed, an evil sounds. Nothing like the sweet song of Rose’s laughs. “Speaking of love, shes thinking how much she loves you, she can hear all of this, feel all this,” She walked around him, whispering in his ear. “You want to know what shes thinking? It’s mostly about you, your eyes, that face, your voice, all that mushy crap,” She laughed and leaned against the console. “Here’s the thing, Doc-tor. You can have your Rose back, alive, unharmed, and perfect as ever, if, and only if you help me get what I want,” The Doctor could only think of all the bad that was about to happen, not to the world, he could care less about the rest of the world at that moment, but his Rose.   
“I,” he swallowed hard. “I’ll do anything,”   
“NO!” Rose shouted, her body lurching forward again, eyes again strong and perfect. A bit of black smoke escaped from her mouth as she shouted. She coughed, her eyes returning to that dark pit of nothing. “Shes a strong one. She’s fighting real hard, almost too hard. I’ve never seen someone that could fight against me,” the Doctor smiled.   
“Rose Tyler, defender of the universe, the Bad Wolf. You’ve never heard of her? She’s stronger than anything I have seen,” his voice got louder as he closed in on the demon, pinning it to the console. “She killed the entire Dalek race with a flick of her hand. Consumed the whole of the Time Vortex. Resurrected a man from the dead. Rose, my Rose. The woman I love and so help me God, nothing is going to keep you safe. No matter how strong or powerful you are she will, overcome you,” by the time he was finished he was screaming, almost nose to nose with Crowley. Slowly, Crowley moved closer, their bodies pressed together. Very calmly, as if the Doctor had not just yelled in his face.   
“That’s very sweet, but, in the meantime, you will do exactly what I say, when I say it, or this Rose of yours will be pushing pushing up daisies. Not to mention the hell I will put you two though. And yes, I mean actual hell,” She quickly lifted her head up, lighting tapping their lips together. “Do you understand, Time Lord,” she spat out those last two words. He nodded. Anything to keep Rose safe. “Good! London, January 20th, 2012. I need to check on the progress. Hopefully everything will already be as planned,” the Doctor, flipped switches, pressed buttons, hammered and twisted until the she finally gave in and took them where they need to go. He stroked the console, eyes empty and vast. All hope gone. he whispered to the TARDIS, tears filling his eyes.   
“Help me, please” 

London, January 20th, 2012  
Sam and Dean stepped out of the airport, looking about the mass of people lining the streets rushing from one place to another.   
“How about this Sammy? Me and you in London! How cool is that,” he slapped Sam’s shoulder and laughed. Sam just let out a big huff from his nose and painted on his famous pouty face he has whenever he disagreed with Dean. They walked off into the crowed, turning to the right not at all sure where they were going. Dean had no idea what to do now, he just looked around, listening, watching for Crowley or Cas. The only thing he saw was a few hot girls and a bakery selling pie. He chose the pie.   
The brothers sat at the table, Dean eating a slice of pecan pie while Sam, not forgetting his pissy face, researched on his laptop. They sat in silence for a while, neither of them minded.   
“What are we even looking for? I mean, we have nothing to go on,” Sam started. He was sick of taking cases just because Cas said so. Whenever Cas even pointed his finger Dean went running. Sometimes he thought Dean was trying too hard at following Cas, like he wanted something from him.   
“Cuuk,” Dean said with a mouth full of pie.   
“Huh?” Dean swallowed, wiping his mouth off on his sleeve.   
“Chuck. Profit Chuck. Look for anything around here from him. Calls, reservations, hotels, motels, tickets, everything,”  
“You’re saying Chuck is involved with this?” Dean nodded.  
“He had some prophecy. Me, you, Crowley, in London, Cas hasn’t told me the details, but I thought it was a good enough leed to go on,” He shoveled the last bit of pie into his mouth. Just then another plate of cherry pie slid in front of him. Cas sat in the other chair, looking intently at Dean. The way Dean looked at that pie, then at Cas, it looked like he would have kissed that angel right there. In reality, Dean was picturing that in his mind, so was Cas.   
“Yes, Chuck is here, at 221B Baker Street to be exact. I was the one who took him there,” His voice was rough and soothing as usual, Dean couldn’t stop listening. He felt peaceful with that voice.   
“So, what are we looking at?” Dean muttered between gawking at Cas and bites of pie.   
“You’re looking at me, so is Sam,” he said, his eyes wrinkled with confusion. Damn, isn’t he cute when he’s clueless Dean shouted in his head.   
“No, what is the case? What are we up against?” Sam stated with a sigh.   
“Oh, yes. Chuck told me the prophecy,”

 

London, January 20th 2012

Chuck scratched at his stubbly chin and coughed. Sherlock sat in anticipation while John was too busy looking at Sherlock. He’s so hot when he’s intrigued. he thought, his cheeks instantly turning pink.   
“Couple nights ago, I was trying to write another book, I told myself I was done with writing but, money is low and I needed something to do. Anyway, I was sitting there and the vision took over me. I knew what was a happening, I used to have visions all the time before, but this one was a little different. Before it was as if I were looking down at the scene, like I was watching a movie, but now I saw it as if I were apart of the story. First it was a slew of faces, both of you, Dean and Sam, a pair of hunters I have worked with in the past, and a man and a woman. He was young, styled brown hair, brown eyes, glasses and she was pretty, blonde. So then I was standing in the middle of London, I could see Big Ben behind me. And we were all just standing there, the man and woman on one side and the rest on another. Then it started to get fuzzy, In all my prophecies its detailed, like super detailed, but this one was fuzzy. I don’t know why. I felt like something didn’t want me to see everything, ya know? So after that it was only quick glimpses. I saw us here, talking, you on the phone when I called you, Sam and Dean in the airport. Then a few shots of the man and woman. They were standing in some room, it was big and looked like one of those syfy movies. The woman’s eyes were black and he was yelling. I don’t completely understand. I felt, sad. I don’t know what about it was sad, but it was. After that everything turned black, There were screams, crying, shooting. Then I heard a voice. Man, was it creepy. It sounded pure evil, like, like, I don’t know. Something,” Then I saw some of us dead, in his mind he recalled the faces of the dead. He knew he shouldn’t tell anyone who was going to die. It would ruin everything. “After that, when I woke up from the vision, Castiel was in my living room. Like he knew. Well, he did. Angels instantly know when a profit has a vision. He brought me here, told me everything would be taken care of and now, now I need you. I’m not sure for what, or who and what is going to happen but, no matter what, whatever I saw will happen. It always does, no matter how much anyone tries to change it,” He raked his hands through his messy hair. “You think I’m crazy,” John and Sherlock answered simultaneously   
“Yes,” John laughed.  
“No,” Sherlock admitted. John looked at his partner in amazement. “I need evidence first. Something I can see, right here, right now,”   
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” The voice came from beside them. John stood with a gasp, Sherlock giving it nothing but a glance. Cas stood between the two detectives, eyes intently locked onto Chucks, “They should be here soon, there’s no time to waste,”


	5. Chapter 5

Sherlock for once in his life had no idea what was going on, the mystery and lost feeling he had was new, not to mention beyond annoying. He had gotten up from his chair and paced back and forth away from the group. He could see John from the corner of his eye gazing at him, waiting for him to make sense of things. That was so like John, looking up to him, depending on him to figure everything out. No matter how much he pestered John on how he should open his mind up to the world he liked how John needed him, he needed John as well. He never told John that. Chuck sat on the chair, he hadn’t moved since he sat when he first arrived, Cass hovering by the door waiting. Sherlock didn’t like that man, the angel. He was too above him, too all knowing. It made him feel, small. All his life he was the most intelligent one in the room, now, now he was close to nothing in his eyes.   
“Cas?!” Footsteps pounded up the stairs from behind the door. Cas’s breath caught as he realized Dean was there. He was worried for his human, who knew what could be out there, considering what was about to happen.   
Two men burst open the door.  
“Dean, Sam,” the angel nodded to each of them. The men turned in shock when frantic footsteps scampered up the hall with the shrill yelling of Mrs. Hudson.   
“Sherlock! I tried to stop them! They said they were with Scotland Yard!” the old woman burst through the doorway, her hand pressed up against her chest. “What did you do this time?” Mrs. Hudson looked around the room. “Who are these people?”  
“No one, go back downstairs,” Sherlock snapped at her with a smile. John frowned, he never liked how Sherlock treated Mrs.Hudson. She nodded, still eyeing the men within the room and retreated back to 221A.   
The room was silent, Sherlock stood behind John deducing everyone. The angel, well, to start with the obvious was very much in love with the shorter man, Dean. Dean, was very much in love with him too, has eaten pie in the last couple hours, just got off the plan from America judging by the watch he was wearing and had trust issues. Sam, was Dean’s younger brother. The way they acted around each other made Sherlock think they were the only family they had left. It reminded him how he and John acted when they were together. So protective. Chuck? Sherlock deduced him in seconds, he was such an ordinary person. Writer, he could tell by his hands. Self conscious, he could see that by the way he fiddled with his hands when he talked. He hasn’t showered in days. They were so predictable.   
“So,” Dean started, moving into the middle of the room, “Are we just going to sit around? Drink tea? Crumpets?” he said with a laugh in his overly exaggerated British accent. John snorted.   
“Dean, could you not?” Sam sighed.   
“No, I don’t like the look of this,” Dean stepped closer to Sherlock, looking him up and down. “This has to do with us, this is Crowley we’re talking about. We don’t need a tall, smug, british dude hanging around, looking at us like that. Like we’re lab rats. We got this Sammy, we always have,” he turned to the door, beginning to walk out.   
“How long has your parents been dead?” Sherlock said coldly, unblinking. Dean stopped in his tracks.   
“Who told you that?” he burned with anger.  
“No one,”  
“Sure, no one. Who told you?” Dean stood once again in front of Holmes.   
“You’re very protective over your brother. You travel a lot by the look of your hands. No home. No family. When did your parents die? Before your brother was a child I would think. I have no interest in whatever you need me and John for. We have our own things to solve. We don’t need your so called supernatural issues. I have real things to solve. Murders, kidnappings, serial killers. Real things. Like you said, you got this,”  
“No, we need you,” Chuck shouted.   
“Why do you need me? To chase down your ‘angels’ and your ‘demons’? I have no interest in that. They aren’t real. So, you can leave me and John alone to do our important work, thank you,” Sherlock turned, walking back into the kitchen, flashing a protective glance at John who was still sitting in his chair taking in the situation.   
“Wait,” Suddenly Cas stood in front of Sherlock, blocking his path. How did he get there? He just, appeared. Sherlock thought, his eyes wide with surprise. “Everything is real, Sherlock,” he muttered as he pressed his fingers to Sherlock’s forehead.A bright light shined from the contact of their skin. Sherlock heard John shout.


	6. Chapter 6

Winchester.

God.

Angels.

Hell.

Satan.

A car.

Death.

The bright flashes filled Sherlock's mind to the point he could feel the contents in his stomach churn and his lungs burn from the lack of air he could force into his lungs. The truth seeped into his clever mind and made him even more so. When the images stopped he was laying on the floor between the kitchen and living area the angel standing above him and John on his knees next to his head.   
“What the bloody hell was that?!” John was yelling at the angel. His face filled with pure anger. Sherlock forced a deep breath into his body, shutting his eyes again, then sitting back up. The angel stared down at him with a blank face.   
“Do you believe now?” his said with his deep voice. Sherlock, for once, was speechless. John pulled him back to his feet to see the Winchesters and Chuck staring at him.He was used to being stared at, he could care less at the moment. He was too busy preparing to build new rooms on the supernatural into his mind palace.   
“So, what now? Are we just going to sit around and have a nice chat?” Dean laughed.  
“If you could kindly shut up that would be lovely,” Sherlock snapped. All this talking was disrupting his building.   
“Who are you anyway? If I didn’t know better I would say you were a demon and you know what we do to those? We gank those son’s of bitches,” Sam tried to shut Dean up, it was always like him to pick a fight for no reason.   
“Thats not even a word,” Sherlock muttered, placing his hands under his chin.  
“Excuse me?”   
“Gank. That’s not even a word. I am Sherlock Holmes, the worlds only Consulting Detective and I am more clever than any of your tiny little brains put together. If you wouldn’t shutting up, I can practically hear the IQ of everyone in the room dropping as each syllable utters from your pie eating mouth,”  
“How’d you know he eats pie?” Sam asked.   
“His jacket has cumbs all over it,” Sherlock waved toward Dean who was now brushing off his clothes.   
The fighting didn’t stop. Cas knew this would happen. Placing two men with the ego that size in the same room, fighting was the only thing that was going to happen.   
“John, come with me please,” John looked up at the angel, then back at Sherlock who was now insulting Dean’s sex life. He sighed and nodded. They walked into the kitchen where Chuck had retreated. No one could remember Chuck leaving the room. They had almost forgotten him. “We need to talk about this rationally,” John nodded.  
“Would you like some tea?” John started up a kettle, the angel and the profit both shook their heads. “What exactly is happening?” He asked while turning on the stove and scratching off the dried blood on the counter tops.   
“The end of the world,” Chuck whispered cryptically.   
“No, not the end of the world. We can defeat this,”   
“DEFEAT WHAT?!” John shouted. “Just tell me what is happening!”   
“Some time soon, there’s going to be a ship crashed on Earth. In that ship is going to be three things. A demon, a Time Lord, and Lucifer,”  
“Time Lord?”   
“We’re not sure what a Time Lord is,” Cas admitted. John laughed. Angel of the Lord and he didn’t know something. He had the same level of surprise as he does when Sherlock doesn’t know something. “They’re going to bring upon the end of the world. The demon, Crowley, has planned this for a very long time and it’s going to be very hard to stop him. He’s the King of Hell, he has connections, power. It will be hard, but I believe we can do it,” Cas tightened his jaw and down cast his eyes. If John has learned one thing from living with Sherlock it was to observe. He knew Cas didn’t believe what he was saying, he was lying through his teeth. “If this all goes as the prophecy tells the earth will live on,” he finished. The kettle started to whistle.   
“I don’t believe that,” John grumbled while pouring the steaming water into his cup. There was silence in the room. “If what you are saying is true, and which sounds ridiculous by the way, and we’re facing the King of Hell and Satan, we don’t stand a chance,” John laughed. There was no way this was all real. He was dreaming he supposed. The painkillers for his shoulder always did give him odd dreams. “What do we have?” John knew how to battle. He knew the odds of four humans and a angle was no match for two rulers of the underworld. Even if it was all a dream.   
“We have you and Sherlock,” Chuck muttered. “We have the Winchesters. That’s all we need,” John laughed, now spooning sugar into the water.   
“Me and Sherlock? What can we do? We solve crimes, well, he solves crimes. We have nothing to do with this,”   
“You have just as much to do with this as I do,” Chuck protested, scratching at his chin. John sat at the table, listening to Sherlock fighting with the brothers. He was insulting the tall one’s hair now. God, did he love Sherlock. Even when he was being this much of a twat he couldn’t help but to love him. “You’re apart of this whether you like it or not,” John just nodded.   
Cas returned to the living room to stop the men from fighting. John could see Sherlock’s usual scowl as the angel stood between the two of them. Sherlock was perfect, his curly black hair framing his gleaming pale eyes. John could never keep himself from staring into those eyes while Sherlock thought. You could practically see the information filing into his mind through those eyes. That was when he was the most desirable, when he was in thought. He looks so powerful and calm, so unreal. John always wondered if Sherlock ever thought of him when he looked like that. He wished he did. John mindlessly stirred his tea watching as Sherlock sat back into his chair pouting like a child. What a beautiful child he was. Sherlock looked up at John, seeing him studying from the kitchen. He often caught John looking at him that way, it was comforting. He felt comfortable with the idea of John watching over him. He felt safe. Sherlock smiled. John blushed. They turned away from each other.   
“What’s the plan then? March up to Crowley and kill him? We’ve tried that before,” Sam sighed, leaning against the desk. “We don’t have much of an army here, we don’t have a chance,” The room was once again quiet. They all knew it was true.


	7. Chapter 7

“I need you to remember something,” Crowley said, running his hands along the consul. “There’s a black hole, you’ve been there, you met the big man and so kindly shoved him into it. That’s where we’re going,” The Doctor took in a deep breath. He remembered all too well that black hole. He and Rose had landed on a planet orbiting the black hole, it was impossible, but it was real. Under the surface of that planet was the one thing the Doctor never believed in. The devil. He could remember the heat, the fear, the way he couldn’t stop thinking of Rose. Rose. She was trapped in her body with that demon. He could do nothing about it. He fumed with rage.   
“Why would I take you there?” the Doctor spat. The demon brushed Rose’s yellow hair away from her perfect cheeks.   
“You took Lucifer, who was perfectly trapped in his cage not harming a soul, and shoved him into oblivion. I need him for something and you will get him back,”   
“What’s this ‘something’ you’re talking about?” the Doctor leaned back eyeing the demon trying to get a glimpse of his Rose. The demon laughed.  
“You’re really a lot dumber than people make you seem. Do you actually think I would tell you what my plan was?” he stepped closer, pinning the Doctor against the TARDIS. “Now, no more talking, we’re leaving now,” Every part of the Doctor, every muscle, every cell, every atom told him not to go, to kill him, get his Rose back. How could he? “Now,” Crowley repeated again. The Doctor nodded, the TARDIS groaned in response to the coordinates he put in. Ever she knew this was a bad idea.   
They reappeared in space, orbiting a black hole. The same black hole he and Rose had seen. The same black hole he shoved the devil back into. He opened the doors and peered out into the vast stars and nebulae around him.   
“There, I’ve done it,” he turned on his heel fuming with rage. “Now, give me back Rose,” Cowley laughed. “I’m not through with you. Do you honestly think I would just give you up? The King of Hell with a Time Lord, AND his TARDIS. There is nothing that can stop me,” he let out a laugh that sent chills down the Doctors spine. “Plus, you need to get my boss out of there,” he walked over to the open doors, taking in the sight of the the black hole. It’s energy radiated off it, the bright light of stars being destroyed lighting up the inside of the ship with a ghastly yellow glow. It was beautifully horrific. If you peer right into the middle of it the blackness goes on forever. The stones, stars, and planets drifting into the gaping hole only to wither away and crush into nothing. And inside this beautiful piece of space burrowed the devil. This place held death. You could feel the chill in the air. The death of those whom he could not save.   
“How? I can’t go inside and pull him out, if you didn’t realize that big black this is a black hole. If we were to move any closer it would pull us right in,” the Doctor could only hope.   
“Ah, but you have power, you are smart, you have the tools you need. I know you do, Doctor.” Crowley slipped Rose’s hand around the Doctor’s arm and looked up at him. “Think of this pretty girl, it would be a shame if something happened to it,” the look in Roses eyes was sinister, dark and evil. It scared the Doctor that Rose’s perfect, beautiful face was even able to make those devilish eyes.   
He cleared his throat, running his shaking hands through his hair. If he did this, let the devil out of the cage he was imprisoned in there would be so much death, so much pain. He would be breaking every rule in his book. He couldn’t. He physically felt sick at the thought. But, if he did Crowley would release Rose. He would fix everything after. He would. He always did. Everything would be fine.   
“Let her go,” he whispered.   
“Excuse me?”   
“Let Rose go, let her go home and I’ll do anything you say,” Crowley laughed.   
“This pretty body is my insurance, I have her, you have your job. If you mess up I will make sure you watch her kill herself slowly. I will make you watch the life drain from her eyes and the pain flood her body. Then, right before she dies, I will release her and let you listen to her screams, so don’t try anything Time Lord. But, I’m a nice man, as demons go. I will give you tonight with Rose, but I will be right here listening to everything you say, everything you do. And I expect you to do as I say. I need him out of that hole tomorrow, I have big plans,” Crowley backed up, intently staring at the Doctor. Rose’s mouth open wide with a scream, black smoke escaping flooding into the air. She fell limp on the floor. Quickly the Doctor rushed over to her. She was unconscious. Alive. Carefully he picked her up from the ground and clutched her body to his chest, tears filling his eyes. “You have until morning,” Crowley sang from the other side of the room. The Doctor didn’t even look at him,   
Rose’s room was across from his, it was small, simple, and filled with pictures from their various trips around the universe. Right on her bedside table were two frames. One a picture from years back of Rose, Jackie, and Mickey sitting in a park. The other a photo Rose had taken of him while he was in awe over the stars above him. She always loved that photo. He set Rose down on her bed and layed down next to her. The door shut itself and locked, the lights dimmed and all noise from outside the room faded. Still asleep, Rose curled against the Doctor, clinging to his body and tucking her head into his neck. Her soft breaths warmed his skin, her scent made him feel at home. The tears that built in his eyes now flooded down his cheeks onto Rose’s hair. How could he have let this happen? He promised to keep her safe. He pulled her body closer to his, wrapping his arms around her. His body shuddered as his tears turned to sobs. He would never forgive himself.   
“I love you, I love you, I love you. I’m so sorry, so, so sorry. Oh, Rose, I’m sorry my love,” he muttered between his sobs. He pressed his lips to her forehead, breathing in her scent once again. She stirred within his arms. Suddenly she awoke with a gasp, thrashing in fear in his arms. “Shh, Rose, please,” he pulled back, looking into her scared eyes. “Rose, everything is fine,” he lied. She let out a sigh, tears escaping her eyes. Without a word she hugged herself back into his arms, burrowing her face into his chest letting herself cry against him. He held her close, brushing her hair back from her face, rocking her quivering body trying to calm her. “I’m here, I won’t let anything happen to you,” He could feel himself ready to cry again. No, he couldn’t cry in front of Rose, he need to be strong for her.   
“I-I remember everything, I saw it all happen. You can’t do this, Doctor, you can’t. You can’t sacrifice the universe to keep me safe, you can’t,” she cried, clutching the fabric of his jacket tight in her fists. “I don’t know what you are going to do, but don’t worry about be, worry about all of those people back on Earth,” she pulled back looking into his eyes. She could see the tears still remaining on his cheeks. Nothing hurt her more than seeing the Doctor cry. “Protect them,”   
“No, I can’t.” he whispered, feeling his chest tighten again. He was on the verge of crying again. “I won’t let anything happen to you. You are the only person I care about,” he kissed her cheek.   
“No,” she sat up. “I can’t let you,” she protested.   
“HOW CAN I JUST LET YOU SACRIFICE YOURSELF? HOW CAN I GIVE UP ON YOU? HOW CAN I LET THIS HAPPEN TO TO YOU? HOW CAN I LOSE SOMEONE LIKE YOU? SOMEONE I LOVE!” he shouted, the tears heavily fell from his eyes. He said it. He told her he loved her. And it felt right. She stared at him, fresh tears leaking from her watery eyes.   
“You, l-love me?” she whispered. He pulled her close to his body again.  
“I love you, Rose Tyler. I have always loved you. You’re my everything. There’s no other girl in the entire universe that can compare to you. And I simply cannot let this happen to you,” She was crying.   
“I love you, too. I love you so much,” the Doctor placed his hands on either side of her face, feeling her tears dampen his fingers. “I love you,” she whispered again. He smiled and drew her in closer. His two hearts beating faster than that have ever in his life. Their lips met and he could feel her pulse stop for a second. Their lips pressed together softly, their eyes fluttering shut, and arms reaching around each others bodies. Slowly, their lips moved together in a easy, passionate pace, their arms tightening with every second. Rose shifted herself so she was laying on top of the Doctor’s body, one hand cupping his cheek, the other placed upon his chest feeling his two hearts beat rapidly underneath. They broke apart, Rose resting her head on his shoulder. He gripped her tight and sighed, tears still rolling down his face. And he shut his eyes, muttering into Rose’s hair.   
“I will work this out, even if it kills me,”


	8. Chapter 8

When Sherlock awoke from his mind palace he was surprised to see the others had left. John sat before him in his chair intently staring at him.   
“They left a few hours ago, wanted to research this Time Lord, thing,” John took a sip of his tea. Sherlock nodded. John set down his cup, sighing deeply. “What are we going to do Sherlock?” John looked utterly hopeless, the look at broke Sherlock down from the inside out. “This is bad, and, and, I just know we’re not going to be able to beat this. Its the devil for christs sake!” John rested his head against his palm. “We’re not going to win,” Sherlock stood and knelt in front of John, taking hold of his hand.   
“I’ll make sure we get through this,” he looked John in his wide eyes, “I’m going to do everything I can,” John took hold of Sherlock’s hands, a small smile tainting his lips. Sherlock smiled back, how he wanted to kiss those lips. In one smooth motion Sherlock jumped up and opened John’s laptop that rested on the desk. “First, let’s find out who this Time Lord is,”   
For hours Sherlock typed and scanned the computer in search of the mysterious Time Lord. John brought him cups of tea and sat watching him. It was dark outside, the night lit with the buildings of London and the few stars above. John watched the stars until his eyes began to droop closed, heavy with his tired mind. He awoke to the sound of Sherlock’s cries. John was in Sherlock’s bed, the sheets and blankets brought up high against his chin. He sat up quickly, confused and worried, and lept out of the bed out into the kitchen. Sherlock was racing around the room, sliding on his coat and tieing his scarf around his neck.  
“John, come quickly, I found someone who can answer our questions,” John nodded and quickly pulled on his shoes and a jacket trying to catch up with Sherlock as he flew down the steps.  
“Sherlock, wait!” Sherlock had already hailed a cab by the time John was out the door. Sherlock held to door of the cab open, letting John slide inside. “Where are we going?” John asked.  
“Jacqueline Tyler,” Sherlock looked at John and sighed. “I have information that she may know something about this Time Lord. We need to know what we’re up against,” John ran his hand down his face.  
“I woke up in your bed,” he said quietly.   
“Yes,”   
“Why?”  
“You fell asleep,”   
“So you carried me into your bed?”   
“Yes,”   
“Why?”  
“I wouldn’t have been able to carry you up the stairs to your bedroom,”   
“You could have just left me there,” Sherlock looked deeply into John’s eyes.  
“I know,” What John didn’t know was that when Sherlock put John into his bed he curled up next to him, wrapping his arms around him and breathing in his scent. The rest of the ride was silent.   
The cab stopped in front of a small building of flats, it was a nice enough place. John paid the cabbie and followed Sherlock who was already heading for the stairs. Sherlock led John to a door and knocked. There was shuffling and a muffled shout of ‘coming’ before the door opened to a woman with blonde hair wrapped in a pink dressing gown.   
“What ya want?” she said.  
“Jacqueline Tyler?”   
“Ya, what’s it to you?” She folded her arms and stared up at Sherlock.   
“I want information on Time Lords,” her eyes went wide.   
“I don’t know what you mean,” She glanced nervously over to John. He smiled a bit.  
“Your daughter Rose,” Sherlock began.  
“If she alright?” she said quickly.   
“I don’t know, if you don’t mind us coming in, we need you to answer a few things,” Before she said anything Sherlock pushed his way into the flat into the living room. John, mouth wide at Sherlocks rude actions, looked over at Jacqueline. She was leaning into the door frame looking John up and down.  
“I’m sorry, Ms. Tyler, he can be quite rude at times,”   
“Oh, you can call me Jackie,” she smiled flirtatiously.   
“Right,” John headed into the flat and sat next to Sherlock within the messy room. There were clothes scattered around the room and mounds of photos piled upon the table. Sherlock thoughtfully picked up one photo. It was a young girl, blonde and very pretty, hugging a tall man in a brown striped suit. There were standing before a large blue box that was placed in the middle of the room they were currently sitting in. “That’s your daughter?” John asked. Jackie sat on the other couch, a sad look on her face.   
“Yea, haven’t seen her in a while,” Sherlock was gazing around the room, obviously deducing. John could practically see the gears in his head spinning and thinking producing the things he wanted.   
“Where is she?” John asked.   
“With the man in the picture,” Sherlock stated, still studying the flat. Jackie nodded. “He’s the Time Lord,” he stared into Jackie’s eyes causing her to fidget in her seat.  
“Yea, who are you anyway? What you want with the Doctor?”   
“He’s a doctor?” Sherlock questioned.   
“Tell me who you are,” She crossed her arms again, clearly cross with Sherlock. John smiled.   
“I am Sherlock Holmes, this is my friend John Watson. We are investigating a possibility that this Time Lord is apart of a plot that can endanger the world, and if you would cooperate we can stop him,” her eyes went wide.   
“The Doctor would never endanger anyone, he’s sweet, nice. He protects us,”   
“What and who is he,” Sherlock leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. Jackie sighed, and plucked a photo off the table. It was of her and her daughter.   
“The Doctor is a Time Lord, he travels in this box called the TARDIS. It can travel through time and space, i’ve seen it! He goes from planet to planet with my Rose and saves people. He’s saved the earth more times than we could ever imagine. He’s our protector,” she tossed the photo back into the pile. “He would never let anything happen to anyone,” John laughed.   
“He has a time machine? You’ve gotta be joking!”   
“Yea, a blue blox, bigger on the inside,” Jackie smiled. Sherlock squinted his eyes and looked at Jackie. John knew that face was about to be paired with an insult.   
“Bigger on the inside? Ha. I thought I’ve heard the dumbest thing already from reading John’s emails, but this tops everything,” Sherlock stood. “Goodbye, Ms. Tyler,” he began walking out.   
“Wait!” Jackie jumped up and grabbed Sherlock’s sleeve. “If Rose is in trouble I have to help, I know people, a man. He knows more about Time Lords and aliens than I do, Jack Harkness. I’ll ring him up now, he can help you find what you’re looking for,” Sherlock clenched his jaw and nodded.   
“Tell this Harkness to come to my flat, 221B Baker Street,” swiftly Sherlock strode out of the flat, his coat trailing behind him. It was always like Sherlock to make a dramatic exit, John snorted. Looking over at Jackie John could see the panic in her eyes.   
“Ms.Tyler, we’re not completely sure what it is that is going on, but we will keep you updated,” John scribbled down his cell number upon a small pad that rested on the table. “If you have anymore information, questions or see this Time Lord or your daughter, call us,” Jackie smiled and nodded. He smiled back and rushed out the door to Sherlock who was already calling for a cab.


End file.
